


Tell Me

by Resident_Crowley_fan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley Whump (Good Omens), Fluff and Angst, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29316762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resident_Crowley_fan/pseuds/Resident_Crowley_fan
Summary: Aziraphale senses Crowley in the bookshop but when he doesn't hear or see him, He starts to worry.In which Crowley is injured and Aziraphale needs to take care of him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written and I hope it's decent. If you enjoy it kudos would be appreciated!!

If Crowley was sure about anything (which in all honesty he’s not very often) he was absolutely sure about these things. He was in a heaven of a lot of pain, He was stabbed right under his ribs and he needed to find Aziraphale.

He didn’t have much of a choice to run or even walk if he wanted to. So he made a split-second choice. In a flash, he was in the angels' kitchen clinging onto his side coughing like a man drowning. “Aziraphale!” He called out into the flat and hopefully the shop below. If the Angel didn’t hear him he’d have a hell of a sight tomorrow. He leaned his head against the counter and hoped, possibly even prayed (although he would deny it) That Aziraphale would come running. “Aziraphale please-” He was slipping out of consciousness and fast. “Please,” He thought he heard footsteps but he wasn’t sure. He could’ve been imagining his last wish for all he knows. He slipped under for sure, a black wave swallowing his sight.

The first thing Aziraphale senses is Crowley, but he didn’t hear the jingle of the bookshop door or the Bentley roaring up to the shop. This was enough to cause Aziraphale alarm as Crowley, serpent that he is never tries to sneak into the bookshop. Usually opting to swagger in the front door. Aziraphale got up from his chair quickly and set his book on the table to begin searching the shop. That’s when he heard it. It was faint but the owner of that voice is unmistakable, “Aziraphale please,” He never ran so fast in his entire existence.

Crowley sounded so weak and if he couldn’t heal himself he might be dying. The thought alone sent Aziraphale’s heart into irregular patterns. _He could be dying._ He repeated it to himself right as he entered the kitchen where a very weak, very injured demon was lying on his floor. “Crowley,” Aziraphale rushed next to him, seeing his unconscious state immediately and sending him into a state of worry. He knew that it was holy as soon as he saw the wound. “Crowley I’m going to heal you just, please hold on,” He knew the demon was probably too blacked out to care but he said it anyway. Partially for him too as if he needed to reassure himself that he could.

He held back tears and focused on healing Crowley. He slowly put his hand over the wound and concentrated hoping to feel where the holy energy was building so he could pull it out of the wound to prevent any more damage to Crowley. He found it finally and willed it together, pulling it out of Crowley’s wound which thankfully with that movement looked much less threatening. Crowley was still out but he was alive. Thank goodness.

Miracling the wound closed was another hurdle entirely. He didn’t know how bad it was and if miracling it would make it worse. Demons and angels are from the same stock but blessings probably wouldn’t be pleasant. So he took a different approach. He quickly miracled a medical kit and began stitching Crowley’s wound closed. Once he’d done a good enough job Aziraphale scooped up the limp demon from the floor and carried him to the bed he had thankfully had in his flat for reading at night when the bookshop wasn’t comfortable enough. He gently placed Crowley on the tartan comforter and slumped down next to the bed. Now that the initial chaos was over Aziraphale needed to think. _Who did this to Crowley?_ Then as if he'd heard Aziraphale's thoughts Crowley woke with a pained gasp.

"Angel!" Crowley tried to sit up but that ended in a hiss and him throwing himself back down. Aziraphale immediately shot up to keep Crowley from reopening his wound. "Crowley! calm down the wound is as healed as I could get it. you need to relax," Crowley who was already exhausted complied laying himself down on the bed carefully. "'m sorry angel I didn't know where else to go." Crowley muttered weakly turning to look at Aziraphale. "My dear if you ever say sorry about coming to me for help I might smack you," Aziraphale chuckled lightly but then he changed to a more hardened expression. "My dear who did this to you," Crowley looked hesitant for a few seconds before speaking "If I told you angel, you wouldn't believe me," Crowley looked anxious if a demon could look so (and crowley being the worst demon in hell he very much did). Aziraphale put his hand on his arm gently. "Tell me Crowley, I need to know," 


End file.
